


Passive Seduction

by Crystalliced



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalliced/pseuds/Crystalliced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a futuristic, chauvinistic society where most women are regarded as toys and raised to be such, one reluctantly makes the transition from girl to adult while exploring her new role as concubine to an unorthodox man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passive Seduction

    I straighten my black tie once more before stepping out of my car, the latest model.  The familiar stink of cheap cigarette smoke fills the air.  My face is already stone-cold, eyes expressing nothing.  It’s the only way to hold onto your money here, not that I struggle.

    A bearded man eyes me strangely as I walk past, perhaps wondering if I am his next target.  I meet his challenge, onyx eyes drilling straight into his, and he turns away, clearly no longer interested.  

    Smart man.  

    As I step off of the cracked sidewalk and into my destination, one of the starry-eyed blonde girls walk up to me, as if to service me.  I shake my head imperceptibly and she nods once, smile unbothered as she turns to lead me onwards into the building, past the counter and into a room labeled in black lettering:

   **Employees Only.**

   I’m hardly an employee, merely a customer.  Finding a strange sort of amusement in this, a hint of a smile sets itself on my lips for a brief moment before I vanquish it immediately.  I trust the people here -- enough to where I don’t think they’ll cheat me out of anything -- but it’s always best to remain alert.

    The door trick is a fairly obvious trap to make money.  After servicing the male not only must pay a service fee, but will likely be too -- ahem -- satisfied to remember what he came for and will walk away.  A few days later, on remembering what he needs -- and the positive memories associated with the experience -- he’ll come back to buy once more and be distracted by the same trick.

    I’m better than that, of course, but I’m not entirely a fan of the servicing thing anyways.  While rejecting the service in front of the master of the house -- nearly always male -- is generally taken as an insult, I was the only man in that establishment.   

    The flooring changes from velvet red carpeting to sterile metal, a noticeable change representing the difference in....business.  The jewelry front that this store puts up is a facade -- legal, too.  This area is hidden and requires a reservation and exorbitant fee.  Legal...but frowned upon, exceptionally so.  The bleeding hearts of the Social Justice Warrior movement must be making some kind of progress.

    I can’t figure out why, though.  What we have now works perfectly fine.  These traditions have worked for thousands of years, with only technological modifications affecting any of our laws.  Guess the SJWs have figured out that they won’t get anywhere legally and have focused on persuading the lowest common denominator, instead.

    Rather pathetic, but it’s a desperate act for desperate people.  Sooner or later, the government will announce the raid of another base and activity will die down for a bit.  And then it’ll start back up again.  Back and forth, an eternal stalemate.  

    Rebellions don’t truly work here, after all.  You can only start them when the people aren’t satisfied, and, well, the half that have any rights at all are completely satisfied.  

    Women, of course, are lower than us.  They have no rights.  Killing one isn’t murder -- it’s destruction of property.  That’s how things have always been, and it’s how I imagine things will always be.  Science continually spouts facts assuring us of this, new articles coming out monthly proving that, in some way or another, women just don’t measure up.

     Of course, none of the scientists involved are female.  I wonder what one would have to say about the issue.

     I’m led down a flight of stairs that opens up into a larger room, far more homely than the impersonal steel that plated the floor of the corridor.  It’s quite bright for an underground chamber.

     Details lie tantalizingly out of my view, but to maintain professionalism I do not turn to look.  I am able to see doors to other rooms, a few tables and chairs scattered around in a clean manner.  I’m lead to one such desk, where a person reclines in a leather seat, a nameplate set in front of her, but I already know her name.

     “Ah, Tyler.  It’s about time you’ve made your way here.”  The thin, black-haired woman stares at me, her onyx gaze boring into me.  I nod politely.  Woman or not, she is clearly the master of the house...or simply extraordinarily, suicidally defiant.  As none of the women in the area look surprised or offended, I assume it to be the former.

     “My apologies, Liz.  I came as fast as I could.”  I had some paperwork to finish before I could come here ‘as soon as possible’.  I’m essentially an accountant for my billionaire parents, hired to save money.  I don’t mind, since I leech off of them anyways, quietly creating my own bank account and moving funds.  

     It’s a game my father and I play, except he doesn’t know I play.

    “Hm.”  Liz stands up, and I notice the metal hilt on her waist.  I see, definitely the master of the house, then.  “Eighteen, I suppose.  Here for your first?”  Her mannerisms are refined, her words sharp.  I nod in response.  “I see.  Well, come this way.  We’ll pick someone out for you.”  

     I’m not filled with the excitement my father described when he asked -- rather, demanded -- that I pick out someone to take on.  I wonder why.  Taking a woman as a concubine, I think, will be cumbersome and ultimately expensive.  But fun, apparently, and necessary for my growth in some mysterious way.  

    His first eventually wound up being his wife -- a loveless arrangement, solely to bind her to him permanently.  Eventually, a woman can earn her freedom after a few years of service to disappear into society...and, likely, to be kidnapped into slavery or worse.  My mother was particularly smart and wily, and in a show of wit, managed to get my father to accept the marriage...elevating her to a free woman.

    This alone has earned my mother the distinction of being the smartest female in existence as far as I’m concerned.  Using love as some kind of trap to earn her freedom.  Fascinating.

    She’s also why I decided to come out here at all.  I want to see it for myself -- a woman whose existence defies science as we know it.  Someone -- not my intellectual equal, of course, that won’t be happening -- but someone intelligent.  I don’t want the average female with “subhuman” intelligence, as they’re defined -- I want to communicate with a real person.

    Sex doesn’t particularly excite me.  Romance is a waste of time.  What I want is discussion, intellectual stimulation.  And...hm.

     I think I want companionship.  Someone to talk to.  I know how to talk, but I can’t utilize it.  That’s stupid and pointless.  

     Perhaps that’s why I’m here today.  

     I keep the thought in mind as I’m led to one of the doors.  “The rooms are all interconnected, so you can travel around the place.  Anna here--”  Here she points to one of the girls trailing us, this one a redhead dressed in a green summer dress, “--will show you around.  And she isn’t a service girl, so don’t even think about it.”  Liz finishes, drily.  

    I don’t bother to justify that with a response.  

    “Got it.”  I glance at not-a-service-girl Anna, who smiles back at me, teal eyes twinkling in mirth.  Business over, Liz walks away, the majority of the girls following, chattering excitedly.  I wonder what they do the rest of the time.  What’s their job, exactly?  

    “Lead the way.”  I say, letting the thought go.  There must be some other reason for their presence.  

    “Okay.  Sorry about Liz.  A customer tried to cheat her out, so...”  Aha.  An honor duel probably would have settled that, and those generally lead to death.  

    “Oh, I didn’t take any offense.  Don’t worry.”  If I had, I could have challenged Liz to an honor duel.  I’m not a particularly sensitive person, though, so I don’t care.  It’s a waste of time and energy, anyways, unless there’s a real reason.

    “Okay!”  Anna is quite bubbly, and certainly attractive.  “And, what she said earlier, I don’t...ah...I mean, I can, if you want --”  And stumbling over herself to make sure I’m happy.  

    “Oh, you really needn’t.  I have a meeting in a little bit, and...you know.”  I’m implying that I’ll be serviced there, too, and it could be taken as an offense if I didn’t have the stamina to be serviced there (the same mechanism that stops someone from angrily storming back into a shop after they have been serviced).  Anna nods, blushing.  I’m not even sure if it’s a marketing ploy or an actual personality quirk of hers.  Interesting all the same, though.

    I wish I could tip her, but her pockets are in the front and there’s no way I’d be able to slip something to her without her noticing.  Hm...

   “Ah...I’ve never done this before.  So...is it okay if I just show you each person in order of rooms and then you can decide who it is you want?  I can’t think of any other way to do it...”  Her voice starts off confident...and trails off as she loses her train of thought.

   “That sounds fine.”  I don’t particularly care as long as I find someone suitable.  

   “Ah.  Well, okay.  We’ll be looking through the one-way glass, so they can’t see you.”  How interestingly militaristic.  It’s kind of like keeping some kind of animal pet...which, this is, at its most basic form.

   “Sounds good.”  Anna has an interesting verbal quirk, lots of placeholder words.  Seems to get flustered semi-easily as well, too.  

   “Right.  Well...”  The girl opens the closest door.  “This is --”

   “No.”  I shake my head.  

   It’s the clothing she’s dressed in.  I’m almost certain that the women here are able to choose their own outfits.  Anna herself is dressed in a completely innocent dress.  The girls outside were generally in non-revealing clothing.  It could just be that the sell girls are forced to look attractive, but I don’t think so.  Not to the extent that this girl is, well...yeah.  

   Anna blinks owlishly at me.

   “You can choose the clothing you wear, right?  Every girl here?”  Anna nods.  “Well...she’s too promiscuous.  I don’t want that.”  It would be an attractive trait if I was here looking for sex.  

    “You’re even more interesting than I thought you were.”  The redhead says, an odd smile on your face.  

    “Assuming the normal here are sleazy guys looking for sex, I’ll take that as a definite compliment.”  I decide.  She giggles, lightly.

    “Sure.  Right.  Anyways...so...you don’t want...okay.  Ooh.  But if...she might...ah...”  Anna’s mumbles become increasingly indiscernible.

    “Sounds like an interesting person you’re describing.”  I add offhandedly.  Anna winces.  

    “You could...say that.”  I tilt my head.

    “Not a fan of her?”  I ask.  She shakes her head.  

    “It’s not that.  It’s just that...well...she bites.”  The girl says.  I hesitate.

    Not for long, of course.  That would be unbecoming.

    “Feisty...hm?  Alright, I’m intrigued.  I want to see her.”  I have multiple reasons for this.  Intelligent enough to want something better for herself, I think.  Aversion to sex, from her description.  This could be interesting.

    Anna leads me through four different hallways before coming to the correct door, opening it and taking me to the one-way glass.

    I pause.

    Because the girl in question is making the finishing touches to a very large playing card...structure.  So delicate that I’m afraid even the slightest misstep would send it crashing to the ground.  I take note of the delicate folds in some of the cards, the precise way that everything is aligned.

    A pretty brunette, with soft features.  There isn’t anything particularly striking about her, as everything appears so quiet and softspoken.  She glances ever so slightly my way, as if knowing that the door has opened, and I glimpse her eyes.

    Crystal.  They’re like sapphires, burning bright with intelligence and awareness.

    “Fascinating.”  I murmur.  Anna shrugs.

    “You get used to it.  Lindsey is a creator.”  I nod, absorbed in watching her place another card on top of her structure.

     A castle, that’s what this is, complete with a drawbridge.  Incredible.  And this girl is standing right in the middle of it.

     She stretches, precariously balanced on the toes of her bare feet, straining to add yet another card.  Except she can’t, because the top is just out of reach.  She huffs cutely, looking frustrated.

     “Her.  I want her.”  I mutter.  Anna grins.  

     “They all say that at first.”  She replies, looking amused.  “But then Lindsey goes and does something in-character-”

     The brunette slaps out in front of her, sending the tower crashing to the ground.  The impact destroys everything with it.  I stare, appalled.

     “And they abruptly change their mind.”  Anna finishes, bursting into giggles.  

     “Can I talk to her?”  I ask, seriously.  The girl -- Lindsey -- sighs, surveying the mess around her.

     “You might as well.”  She calls out from inside the room.  “But if you could avoid that, then that would be preferable.”  

     I stare accusingly at Anna, but she looks as shocked as I was.  Apparently this one-way glass isn’t as sturdy as I thought it was.  

     “H-How?  Lindsey, what did you--”  Anna starts.  The brunette stares in our general direction.

     “Drilled a hole through the wall with my fingernail clipper.”  I pause, examining the divider for deformities.  Nothing.  Wait...

     I drop to my knees, my eyes level with the bottom of the glass, and see it.  A slash, invisible to someone looking while standing, because the glass blocks the way and distorts it enough to where you can’t tell it’s there.

     “Ah.  I...ah...”  I make my way past a flabbergasted Anna and push the dividing door open, stepping into Lindsey’s room.

     The cards are still slumping to the ground as I stop at the entrance, looking out at the floor of cards.  It would be extraordinarily disrespectful to step on them.  I wonder if this was intentional, to force space assuming that the person in question was considerate enough to avoid damaging property.

     “You’re an interesting person.”  I say bluntly.  She raises an eyebrow at me, looking bored.

     “That’s one way to say it.”  Lindsey replies, equally droll.  “Spit or swallow?”

     “What?”  I ask, dumbfounded.

     “I bite.”  Lindsey says, smiling with all her teeth.  “Nom nom nom nom nom.”  

     I blink.

     Lindsey makes a face.  “Mashed up warm blood, pre, and flesh tastes disgusting.”  

     “You’re quite caustic.”   I blurt out.  “Like battery acid.”  I’ve never met anyone as blindingly crude and disrespectful as this girl!  Anna warned me, of course, but this.  This is ridiculous.

     “I wouldn’t mind giving you chemical burns.”  The brunette says, almost wistfully.  “Drop a gallon of acid down your-”  I turn away from her, glancing at Anna.  The redhead is sporting an absurdly horrified look.  Probably was close enough to hear what Lindsey said, poor girl.  

     “Her.  I want this girl.”  I tell Anna.  

     “Wha-”  The reaction comes from both girls.  I ignore the brunette.

     “Could you inform Liz that I’ve come to my decision?”  I continue.  Anna nods and scampers away, leaving me with a shocked brunette.

     “You’re intelligent, and you don’t want sex.  Didn’t think I could tell?  The placement of the hole in the wall and the fact that you’re trying to drive me away with excessively crude language while not being terribly obvious about it points towards the latter.  You don’t want sex, hinted by your language, but you also want to be free, don’t you?  That’s why you build these things, frail imitations, fleeting dreams of the outside world?”

     Lindsey’s visible shock grows with every word.  “How...How long have you been watching me?”  

     I glance at my watch.  “Six minutes.”  

     “Liar.”  The girl whispers.  “You’re lying.”  

     I shake my head.  “And I’m not done with my analysis.”  

     “Yes.  Yes you are.”  Lindsey says, clenching her fists.  “Get out.”  

     I ignore her, continuing on.

     “But yet you’re confined to this floor -- and, probably, with a few exceptions, to this room itself.  So you’re not truly averse to being bought -- just to the fact that, odds are, sex is part of the package, and you don’t want anything to do with that, do you?”  I ask.

     “Shut up!”  Lindsey seethes, lunging at me.  I catch her by the wrists and turn abruptly, slamming her into the wall.  She tries to knee me, but I block by crossing a leg to take the hit on my thigh before forcing my leg between hers, forcing her to stop.

     “Why?  Is it because I’m right?”  I ask, transferring her held wrists to my left arm, holding them both easily as she struggles and squirms.  A sudden noise makes me panic and slap my hand to her mouth.

     “Did you just try to...spit at me?”  I ask, dumbfounded.  Whatever answer she gives is muffled by my palm.  The click of teeth indicates an attempt to bite me, which doesn’t work for obvious reasons.

     I can read the disgust pretty clearly in her eyes, though.

     “I don’t have an interest in sex.”  I state.  Now her eyes express disbelief.  

     “If I let you talk, will you promise not to spit at me?”  Hesitance, then the shake of her head that indicates yes.  

     I lift my hand carefully from her mouth.  

     “Not interested in sex?  You’re fucking pressing against me!”  I shrug.  

     “Entirely your fault for squirming so much.”  I respond.  

     “You could let me go!”  She protests.

     “You could try not to attack me.”  I reply, evenly.  Her body relaxes.

     “Okay.”  She mumbles.  Satisfied, I step back and watch as she slides to the ground, looking exhausted.  And...something else, something I can’t identify.  I’m shocked at the huge flip in her attitude.  

     “You alright?”  I ask, legitimately concerned.  She nods.

     “Yes.”  Defeated.  That’s the look in her eyes.

     “I really won’t force you to do anything that you don’t want to do.  Anything sexual, anyways.”  I say, sincerely.  She doesn’t even bother to look up.

     “I guess we’ll see.”  She mumbles.  I frown, bothered by the way her spirit seems to have broken, but don’t respond.  I take a seat on the card-covered floor.

     It’s four more minutes before Anna returns, Liz in tow.  The latter shakes her head upon seeing me.  

     “And here I was, thinking it couldn’t be done.”  I glance up at her, standing up to show her respect.  

     “You make it sound like Lindsey is some kind of obstacle to be overcome.”  I reply sharply.  

     “Isn’t she?”  Liz asks, cryptically.  “Damaged property is of no use to anyone.”  Lindsey flinches.  It bothers me and angers me at the same time.

     “I was under the impression that I was receiving a human being.”  I respond, voice clipped.  “That is what I’m paying for, correct?”  Something about my tone must open her eyes, as she nods rather than giving back some kind of sarcastic answer.  

     “Do you need restraints?”  It’s a legitimate question, but her words are mocking.

     “Lindsey is human and can walk on her own.”  I fire back, voice ice cold.  

     “Cool.”  Liz turns around.  Such disrespect...but it’s not the disrespect to me that bothers me.  Hell, Lindsey just tried to attack me.  It’s the fact that she’s patronizing someone she’s supposed to care about.  And then, the mutter under her breath that I probably wasn’t supposed to hear, “Fucking SJW.”  

    I twitch.  That’s an incredibly serious accusation, one that speaks of treason.  My left hand thumbs at the hilt on my waist before I relax.  

    In public, I would be forced to fight or risk being lynched.  But this isn’t public.  There’s no need to get into an ultimately needless fight.

   I shake my head, out of her sight.  You can’t save the stupid, I suppose.

   “So.”  Liz says, back at her desk.  “You’re going to take her home?”  The girl in question stands behind me, quiet.

   “Yeah.  I don’t have anything to do, so I don’t see why not.”  I hand over my card and watch as she makes the transaction.  

   And in the short span of three seconds, I take on the responsibility of another human life.  It’s quite breathtaking.

    “Here.”  She hands me my card back, looking bored as usual.  “Go.  Shoo.”  

     Not an issue.  “Let’s go, Lindsey.”  She looks up, nodding.  

     Completely complacent, now?  There’s some reason for it, but I can’t see it right now.  I turn and walk out, Lindsey following me.

     “Wait!”  A voice calls out as I step out onto the sidewalk.  I turn around, confused, until I see Anna run out after me.

     The redhead parks herself in front of me and glares.  

     Ah...I used the excuse of having a meeting to dodge servicing...and she was there when I told her I didn’t have anything to do.  Well.  This is awkward.  

     Her expression softens abruptly.  “I understand why you lied.”  She says, happily.  “But-”  She steps forward and places a piece of paper into my jacket pocket.  “Now you owe me!”  She leans forward, kisses me on the cheek briefly, then spins around, running off again.  

     I blink, perplexed, taking out the piece of paper.  A phone number...?

     I look back, towards the store.  Interesting.

     “Are you ready to go?”  I ask the girl waiting at my side.  The brunette in question is absorbed in looking around, taking in everything there is to see.  The wonder in her eyes is evident.  Just how long has it been since she’s been outside?  

     “I...just another minute, please.”  She whispers, sounding somewhat desperate.  I understand.  I understand completely.

     “Lindsey.  Look at me.”  She complies, though reluctantly.  “You’re not my prisoner.  There are rules, of course, but you’re not my prisoner.  This isn’t the first time you’ll be outside and it certainly won’t be the last, okay?  Within reasonable constraints, I will try my best to accommodate for your curiosity.”  

     Lindsey stares at me.  

     Then I’m treated to the sight of a slow, if sincere, smile.  


End file.
